“While Anglophone publishing is intensely concerned with comparative titles and where a novel fits into the landscape, contemporary Arabic publishing largely is not. As such, there is no fixed terminology used for cli fi (climate fiction) in Arabic—though there is fiction that looks much like cli fi in English.”
— Speculative Climate Futures in Arabic Literature
Personally, I think genre is bullshit and one of Western civilization's most detrimental inventions for culture at large.
Warhol's MY HUSTLER cost $500 to make. Its first week at The Filmmaker's Cinematheque in New York brought in $4000 USD. The year was 1966.
It's hard to imagine being able to shoot an indy film today and make a profit after screening it in no more than one movie theatre, for months even let alone a single week.
Where did the world go so wrong.
Andy Warhol sold one of his largest flower paintings to Isabelle Collin Dufresne (who would eventually adopt the moniker Ultraviolet) for today's equivalent of about $5,000 USD. Hardly comparable to some of the sums fetched by today's top working artists, but here's the thing; his rent for The Factory, the legendary space that was his art studio, production house, and entourage hangout was no more than $150, the equivalent of close to $1,500 today.
For context, the Factory was 5,000 square feet and located in Midtown Manhattan. It was by all accounts beyond dilapidated, but still a massive centrally located space in America's densest city. The best you could hope for for that kind of money today is little more than a closet and chances are it wouldn't even be so centrally located.
Another way to look at this is: The sale of one painting could cover the cost of over 3 months' rent.
“Large Language Models are remarkably similar to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein monster—because they're a big, stitched-up gathering of many little dead bits and pieces, with some voltage put through them, that can sit up on the slab and talk.” — Bruce Sterling on AI for Newsweek.
Somewhat relatedly, Fast Company Middle East surveys a number of artists, including myself, on developments in AI-generated art.
Re-watching RUN LOLA RUN for the first time in over 20 years. So much stranger than I remember, with many odd narrative choices. Its cool factor is still very cool, but it's also incredibly ridiculous. The fact that the entire premise of the film stems from the anxiety of not being on time, makes it funnier than its meant to be, and also very German.
Still a lot of fun to watch, and oddly refreshing somehow.
On a completely different note, I recently discovered that before landing on BLADE RUNNER for a title, Ridley Scott considered calling his movie ANDROID. While not as inventive a title, it would've been particularly cool after having just come off a movie called ALIEN.
Andrew Huang and Rob Scallon make a song using only their left hands. Watching the gears in their minds at work as they arrive at solutions and encounter revelations is such a joy to observe.
Newsletter dispatched, email zero, RSS feed at 285.
It is lethally hot out (“35C, feels like 42C”), so I will stay in and tend to this unruly RSS feed with AC on full blast and many cold beverages consumed.
Watched DUNE 2 last night, it is awesome.
Inks on one TSG page remain before moving on to letters, compilation, and colors/tones where necessary. After which, all that will remain shall be one chapter only before the book is finally complete.
Despite being taunted by both a half-inked page on my table and an unfinished human-sized painting out front, I have decided to spend the day tending to my inboxes (combined at 89) and my RSS catcher (388), but also cook a bunch (Madras-spiced meatballs and spinach-rice so far, hopefully still enough time to make a big batch of granola and also fish-balls).
Should also start thinking about next week's newsletter.
Current background listening is the Theory of Everything Podcast's excellent Not All Propaganda is Art series.
Finally got around to watching OPPENHEIMER the other night btw. It was fine.
Illustrated/designed a cover for a thing and inked in a page of TSG. Also made a post office run and picked up groceries, only to realize upon my return that I'm out of frozen fruit (essential for my daily smoothies). Combined inboxes at 155 and RSS catcher at 387! Looks like I have my weekend cut out for me.
Cannot unsee the sight of my baby boy's little hands flapping through water's surface trying to grab hold of a kickboard shortly after his swimming class. Not sure how long his head was under for, but the fright on his face when I pulled him out was like nothing I'd ever seen before. No crying, just terrible fear. You compare that to the unspeakable atrocities lived by the children of Gaza and their parents, and you can't help but feel a real hard pang in your chest.
Scanned in all the original art from TSG01 which forced me to look at it for the first time in a long time, realizing how drastically my line art has changed since I first started this ill-conceived project some nine years ago. Looking at those ancient pages, you can almost feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, stiff controlled lines, terrible worry. Not sure that comes across on the printed page necessarily, but certainly palpable on the original boards.
Lines loosen and glide a bit more on my latter pages, even in those scenes where I attempt to replicate the lineart from earlier pages.
Inking a couple pages today. A few orders need to be fulfilled, and a grocery run is in order, but dark windy skies threaten with hard rain.
Photo app is reminding me that it was this time last year that I was in Berlin. Such a great time connecting with friends old and new. This year, I have decided to stay put and go nowhere in the hopes of finally bringing TSG to completion. I find that every time I travel (or move studios/residences) I lose momentum, which takes time to regain before hitting my stride. Want to avoid any of that this year.
Everyone I know is leaving for the summer though. Understandable; the Houston heat can become a bit much, even for me. This however has put me in the position of caring for small furry creature this summer, belonging to the friend of a friend of a friend. After hiding for a few hours, I think she's finally starting to warm up to the place.
